


Angels and Demons

by FancyLadySnackCakes



Category: inFAMOUS (Video Games), inFAMOUS: Second Son
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Don't Judge, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Kissing, Mild Femdom, Praise Kink, mild glasses kink happening here, nerds, powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 09:21:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20871869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FancyLadySnackCakes/pseuds/FancyLadySnackCakes
Summary: Anonymous asked: are you gonna write any more infamous second son stuff again? -- any thoughts on writing Eugene Sims?A/N: I had not thought about writing him except in passing, but I HAVE DONE IT! I hope you like it, Anon. I hope everyone likes it! <3





	Angels and Demons

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anonymous](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous/gifts).

\-----------------------------------------

During the DUP raid Eugene Sims saves her from unlawful imprisonment and a really ugly orange jumpsuit. 

He doesn't remember her because she'd been one out of a dozen or so caged citizens screaming for justice. Plus, a tanker had exploded like ten seconds after he blasted the hinges off the doors annnnnd he was pretty antisocial on a good day. Upon closer inspection of the one and only Eugene Sims, offering him a 'thank you' probably would have gotten her lost in a cloud of 'runaway' dust. Because… antisocial is his middle name. 

Unfortunately, mentioning this year-old rescue mission of his during a casual grind in Heaven’s Hellfire doesn’t go well. 

Sam was halfway done beheading a demon from the Midgardian Plane, fully digitized in his video world no less, when she mentioned it half-assedly. This new information causes his avatar to slip into a floor of lava - those wrecking ball-sized eyes of white gold widening in slow shock - and the world beginning to glitch out. 

The revelation is too much for his brain to handle. And like all things, there’s a time and place, but this wasn't the time… or the place. Sam felt like an idiot. Go figure. 

Video-blood runs down her face from the decapitated demon husk as she watches Eugene’s talons melt into the glowing magma of permadeath. She’s ready for it when her body glitches out of video-land and Eugene's sweet ass world dissolves into upwards raining pixels, leaving her laid out on the floor beside a cross-legged Eugene. 

It takes a moment for the vertigo to cease - for the ceiling to stop mimicking a twister - and her breathing to slow to normal. Transitions like this always threw her for a loop. 

Finally, with a shudder, she deflates, finally free of the last tendrils of video that linger in her head. She turns to look up at her best friend who she also might, sort of, semi be in love with… but that’s another half-assed confession for another night. 

Eugene's cheeks are red. Even beneath the shadow of his hood the TV screen illuminates him; big teeth showing between his soft lips and those oversized glasses casting the loading screen back at her. 

"Was it something I said?" Sam asks, knowing it is but unwilling to admit it. 

When he doesn’t respond, she rolls on her side and takes a big, ragged breath. Getting a chance to ride the high in Eugene's version of Heaven's Hellfire always made her feel like someone yanked her out of a sauna on spin but VR had nothing on his conduit powers. There was nothing else like it. 

Eugene looks lost, and not in an 'I just lost to a girl' kinda lost cause that stopped bothering him months ago when he realized you were on par with him video game wise. 

His fluffy blonde curls hang limp beneath his hood, brushing the tops of his glasses; head hung in… shame? Well, actually, he looks more or less bemused now that Sam cranes her neck to get a better look at him. Either way, he's not usually such a sore loser, so the mood is a little jarring. 

"Hey, I didn't mean to ruin the evening or anything. I'll order us some burgers and even pick them up from Pillz Dillz… just," Sam pauses to yawn, playing it cool, "give me a moment to catch my breath. Eugene's Video Paradise is exhausting."

He shrugs, "It's umm… it's not that. It's what you said." 

Eugene falls back on his elbows, looking blankly at his red shoes, quietly continuing, "You know what I’m talking about."

"About the butcher job I did bringing up the DUP incident? I was there…”

Eugene nods, casting a quick look her way. The TV momentarily flashes which is only slightly startling. "How come you never said anything before?" 

If that wasn't the million-dollar question, huh?

"I dunno," Sam mumbles, "Didn't seem important I guess, besides... half of Seattle saw you and the C-Team running around. Not exactly part of the minority here."

"Yeah, but-"

Sam blows a soft raspberry, cutting him off. He even has the wherewithal to look offended.

It’s hard to talk him out of a topic, especially something like this, so Sam doesn’t even try. She’s already dug her own grave anyway. Slowly, she deflates over the shag-carpeted floor with an air of drama that makes Eugene's face wrinkle further.

“Sam-“

"I'm beat, my friend,” she tries nervously, “How about we put on Galaxy Quest and order some food instead of… whatever this is gonna be?" She offers, wishing she'd stopped talking along time ago then but keeps going because she’s her own worst enemy, "We don't have to go into my long backstory of fangirling or-"

"Fangirling?" His glasses flash against the TV screen.

“Uhhh…” Sam’s brain stops computing. 

"Wait," a thick, boyish swallow echoes in the bat cave, "I know what you're doing," he accuses mildly. "You're changing the subject by buttering me up." Eugene says it like a fact - almost confrontationally

The bright neon glow of Heaven's Hellfire's menu screen flashes across his glasses again; shimmering. 

"No, nah…” she starts to sweat a little, “... well, I sorta am... but," Sam trails off, sensing one of the mood shifts that have been going on between them lately but still not knowing when to shut her mouth, "it feels sorta awkward now. Like, I’ve made things awkward. A movie sounds way better than talking about… stuff, especially old news… or new news..."

For a second he says nothing, then shrugs with all his weight thrust into his shoulders. 

"It's only awkward because you never said anything until now," Eugene says with a lopsided frown, "Plus, it's our news. All this time, and I didn't know DUP arrested you. I've been hanging out with you for a year and-and I know your favorite nail polish brand… but I didn't know this." 

Finally, those bespectacled eyes slide off her,giving her a chance to fucking breathe. He throws a nervous look back at his chucks and starts teething his lip. Ruddy pink blossoms on his cheeks, and the poor dude looks even more confused now.

He clears his throat with a whistle, "Did you-did you get hurt? I never thought about the collateral damage. Before Delsin helped me figure things out, I always got carried away, and sometimes I think… what if I hurt someone? An innocent person on accident."

Seemingly, for the first time tonight, Sam considers her words carefully. It's not like he's never talked about his childhood or his time at Curden Cay - his mother the bitch congresswoman - but he's always been Eugene 'after Delsin' never 'the before' and that Eugene from before sounded slightly… volatile. 

"... people get hurt," she begins; empathy clear as day through the harsh reality, "during things like that, lots of bad stuff happens. People sometimes die too. But, from my experience? You did nothing but good. Both you, Delsin, and Fetch. If people or persons have PTSD or have wounds that are still healing, it's only because the DUP didn't really care about them."

"So, I didn't hurt anyone that day?" He asks, which is a silly thing for someone as smart as Eugene to question.

Sam smiles, although it's more sad than reassuring. 

She could be a buzzkill and state what they both know or be the bubbly ‘glass half-full’ kinda friend he liked.

"Not that I saw. And I mean, if you did, there wouldn't still be people out there praising your actions. Besides… I wasn't being insincere about the fangirling, and I wasn’t the only one."

Not a day or two goes by where she doesn't pass a paper stand or bank of TV sets through a storefront window where the news isn’t still gabbing on about 'The Battle for Seattle' and how the conduits were saviors of humanity. Eugene didn't see most of it thanks to his anti-social behaviors and borderline agoraphobia, but all the conduits have fan clubs, with fans both mild and' holy shit.'

Eugene gives her a bewildered look then rolls his eyes in a classic deflection technique, but his cheeks are only getting redder.

"Oh, don't act like you don't know,” Sam chimes in with a real smile this time. Surely, he must know he's got a fanbase, at least enough to stay in this basement apartment hideout, lovingly coined ‘The Bat Cave.’ Maybe he's not as popular as Delsin, who has to go out after curfew or else everyone wants to shake his hand, but Sam recalls a fair few times where he's been smothered with attention he couldn't handle… usually at the rare party Delsin drags him too. 

"God, sometimes it's like you've got worshippers or something," Sam goads; watching the blush rise. 

"I-I wouldn't know anything about that," he mutters.

Beneath the glow of his spectacles, his eyes dart around the room, avoiding her face for floors, ceilings, and walls. She twists on her side, getting a brief look in turn and rubs her nails through the rug; posing not unsubtly.

"You know… the only reason I went to that Christmas party Delsin had was to maybe, possibly, get a chance to meet you."

The Heaven's Hellfire Top Twenty Player, Eugene Sims, says nothing. And… shit, she should have shut the fuck up while she was ahead. Just shut up next time, she tells herself

“...”

Under the silence, Sam swallows her nerves and sits up. This next bit needs to be said to his face.

Why is she still talking again? Oh yeah, because she doesn’t have a filter.

"Hey, listen,” she inches closer, “Without your help, this city might be buried under eighty feet of concrete right now. Maybe I wasn't a 'fangirl,' but after you sprung me out of that cage, I paid attention to the papers and reports and you just got cooler. Cute gamer, superpowers - you sounded like you liked other stuff I did, and you were like number three on the HH leaderboards at the time."

Eugene's eyes widen beneath the glasses and strawberry bangs.

"I guess I wanted to get to know you, maybe be your friend or whatever. And! - it turns out you ended up being even cooler than I'd thought you'd be. So, hopefully, that's not weird… or maybe it is. Am I weird." It feels like her mouth is drowning in saliva. Yuck. 

"... thanks,” his lips curl a little, “You're not that weird by the way."

Underneath his tv-reflective stare, Sam's cheeks grow hot in embarrassment. "What about creepy stalkerish?" 

"It's not creepy. I think it's… hot-I mean flattering."

"Hmm. Sure," she replies, unconvinced, "Don't mention it. Even if you don't see it cause this basement is way cooler than downtown, just keep in mind that you've got like hundreds of chicks and dudes who would kill to be playing games and watching movies with you."

"Really?" The way he asks somehow brings the tension down to normal levels of chill. 

"Totally," she says reasonably, picking an old applejack out of the rug with a smirk, "There's probably someone jerking off to you right now. Being a vigilante stud comes with its drawbacks… or perks, I guess. Depending on how you look at it." 

Sam notes the silence again even though it’s less thick and oppressive, internally rolling her eyes at herself. She looks up and finds Eugene staring at her tits, covered though they are in a Gamescon tank top. It’s less an oogle and more of a quiet appreciation and attraction. He's done it before… but he usually sneaks glances when she’s busy doing something that doesn’t involve picking old cereal out of the carpet hairs. 

"Umm, you okay there, buddy?" Sam asks.

"No. I mean, I am. I'm fine. I'm okay." 

He looks away for a second then stares at her stomach and hips… and further between her legs. The walls start closing in like a bear hug that smells of Eugene and whatever deodorant he wears… something light and masculine… something Delsin probably got for him. 

"You're blushing," she tells him as if he doesn’t know, "Did I go too far with the stud comment, hot stuff?"

Oops...

"Sam-"

She paints on a smile and waves her own silliness away, "I know I'm being too much right now. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Promise."

"... it's not that," Eugene mutters, not realizing he's staring at her chest again until she clears her throat loudly. His gaze snaps back to his chucks; face going nearly beet red all the way down to his neck. 

“Gotcha,” she admonishes with a smile that’s supposed to make him feel better but he just gulps and bends his leg at the knee. It's pretty apparent the second a reedy sound leaks out his throat that he's trying and failing to hide a noticeable shadow rising beneath his zipper.

He's got a boner. Holy shit! 

Internally, this realization makes her dance like its mother fucking International Pancake Day.

"Oh," Sam breathes instead of blabbing. 

Eh, scratch that. Sam blabs away, "So, is this a bad time to tell you I'm wasn’t really joking around with the 'hot stuff' comments? Cause… aside from the obvious heroic shit," she scoots closer, pausing every several inches to gauge his reaction and grins deviously once he knee bumps his hip, "I think you're pretty amazing - like in an attractive way, but also cool and funny. But if this is just bad timing and you need to 'ya know' I'll come back later… or never if I've grossly misread this-"

"I don't have a boner, Sam,” as if saying that will make it untrue. 

"I never said anything about a boner," she smirks.

The look on his face says he knows the ruse is over and he's caught once more. First the boob stare and now this, and it’s not as if she hasn’t caught him looking at her tits before. 

At this angle, it's impossible to hide his erection, and like he had her chest for the past five minutes, Sam looks down unabashedly. "Did I mention you've got a sweet setup down here… delicious taste in movies and games. So, all-around perfect."

Eugene shows his teeth in a shy, nervous smile she's seen a fair few times. He swallows again and lowers his lifted knee; pant-tent obvious and… sizeable.

"Hellooooo-oh," she arches her brows. 

"Heh," finally a genuine smile stretches his lips, "I like you too. So… how do we do… this? - like, where do we go from here?"

"Well. Slowly, for starters."

It’s hard to gauge how experienced someone like Eugene is. At heart, his shy and sensitive but she’s seen him bare his teeth and stand up to things that a meek person would cower away from. So, for all Sam knows he’s had plenty of girlfriend, or none. She pictures holding hands, soft kisses and passing out together on the sofa, so when Eugene puts a warm, slightly sweaty hand on her naked knee and runs it up her thigh, it takes her breath away.

Video pixels flutter behind him for a half-second, making her gasp in surprise. He’s already pulled his hand away, looking worried, before she realizes conduit powers and hormones probably go hand in hand.

“Sorry, it’s not you,” she reassures and grabs his hand, putting it back on her bare leg, “I just… wasn’t expecting that. But, I like it.” Sam gives him a cheeky grin to prove her point. 

“So,” Eugene leans in, “Do you want to make out?” And now it’s her turn to blush like a virgin. 

Sam finds out two things about Eugene after the third kiss; it's that the little gap in his front teeth can nick her tongue if she's not careful and… also, he's totally done this before. She wants to push him back and ask who the hell else he was kissing while they were busy becoming best buds. Sam knows he’s never had a girlfriend while they’ve been hanging out, buuuut… Eugene does this thing with his tongue and the tip of hers that makes a literal slip of moisture dampen her underwear. 

The only thing keeping her from collapsing into him is a careful hand on her neck and the sluggish caress of his lips.

With a thin sound of tension, Eugene breaks their short makeout session to shift his right leg out; adjusting his erection no doubt. For a moment his lips hover against hers, merely breathing her in. 

"Slow enough?" Sam asks, more than a little dizzy. 

The video conduit with a shiny lower lip and hearts in his eyes breaks out in a goofy smile, "Not unless you have anything else to confess. If it turns out your a government official I won't be happy."

She rolls her eyes and saddles up close enough to overlap his knee with her calf, “Well…"

Eugene actually looks worried before she opens her mouth again, prompting Sams next blab session with a soft kiss.

"When I told you about 'the incident' I didn't tell you that later, like, a couple of nights afterward, I had this wet dream about you saving me. All alone. Damsel in distress with a side of sexy rewards and stuff…"

Her confession visibly drains all confidence from his face. Whoops. 

"Jesus Christ," Sam laughs her nerves away, or tries to, "I'm sharing so much personal shit today. More than usual too."

"Don't stop, please." The tone is… desperate.

If she didn't know any better, it seems Eugene likes her big mouth and not just when she goes on a tangents about overloaded servers and corporate publishers ‘selling out' in the name of live service revenue. Nope, it appears he gets more than a kick out of her fangirling.

"Eugene," she drawls, trying to sound like the blue-scaled succubus’ from Heaven's Hellfire, "You've either got a praise kink or self-esteem issues… if it's the latter, we really need to stop and talk-"

"It's-it's praise," he stutters, then quickly adds, "and you."

Sam feels like she's in video world, slaying the final Hell Lord with a critical - she feels high and unreal and giddy. If a year ago someone had told her Eugene Sims would have a boner for her, she'd demand proof but get none because seriously… yet, now…

"Wanna hear more?"

Eugene nods; glasses sliding over the ridge of his nose. 

She drums her fingers on the scuffed knee of his jeans and bites the corner of her lip, "So, do you wanna know what I think about your conduit powers, or your 'under the pants' powers… wow, that was lame."

“Heh, umm,” he smiles sheepishly and squeezes her thigh, “The latter.”

Sam licks her lips and grins wickedly. 

“I saw the boner you got a few weeks ago when I wore those cut offs - when I bent down to get the soda out of the fridge.” She couldn’t remember a time she felt more attractive than then, except perhaps now, “You looked at me… and you thought I didn’t see it, but I did. It was so big I went home and,” she gathers up all her courage and walks her fingers closer to his groin, “I fucked myself thinking about it.”

He couldn’t look more shocked had she dumped a bowl of cereal on his head. 

“It’s not…” Eugene stutters, “it’s not that-that big.”

“Not that big,” Sam half-mocks, rolling her eyes, “Not that important or heroic. Blah, blah, blah. Don’t lie to yourself, Eugene.”

Another burst of pixels apperates around the room as he swallows; throat bobbing.

“Or, do you wanna prove me wrong?” It isn’t a joke, but Sam doesn’t think he’ll do anything more than laugh awkwardly, maybe make some joke to break the tension and find a way to watch a movie instead, but! - tonight is full of surprises. 

Eugene nods slowly, “Oh’okay.”

“Wow,” Sam hadn’t expected that, “You sure?”

“Hell, yes…”

Under her breath, Sam giggles like some middle schooler, but here she is, kneeling between Eugene’s spread thighs and hurriedly unbuttoning his jeans around a straining erection. In the back of her head, she always figured he was a briefs guy, so she’s surprised when the zipper comes down, and there’s nothing but a cherry-tipped dick nudging her knuckles. Commando had not been on the table, but she’s not complaining at all. 

“Shit…” she curses in reflex, “see? This thing is like a buster sword on steroids. How long have you been this hard?”

“Ah-awhile,” he stumbled over his own tongue, suddenly super enameled by the way she runs a thumb beneath his cock. A strangled whimper threads through his teeth when she glides it to the puckered slit, pressing down until a leak of precum floods up.

“It’s harder than Ifrilium, and so warm,” a test squeeze gets her a whimper that’s pretty fucking cute and pretty fucking hot, “I bet, if you wanted to, I could show you how right I am by sitting myself… here…” one silky stroke later and Eugene’s glasses slip further down his nose, “right here on top of this beautiful dick.”

As of now, the walls, ceiling and parts of the carpet are splattered with pixel waves of varied colors, almost like a kaleidoscope puked tiny blocks everywhere.

“Can you handle something like that without summoning your angels?” She asks, genuinely worried about getting a video-metal feather stuck in her stomach… or worse.

“I might blow the TV, but I think…” he pauses to pull in a ragged breath that sounds like a gut punch reproduced with an orgasm before continuing with a choke, “I can handle it. I won’t do anything stupid.”

“I mean,” Sam muses, giving his cock a long, light stroke from base to tip, “let’s not say the ‘s’ word. This is fast and maybe a little irresponsible, but you know how bad my impulse control is… also, I’ve had the hots for you for like - too long.”

Beneath his black frames, his lashes flutter, “Yeah, when Delsin… when he said a girl was coming over, I didn’t think it’d be someone like you… I thought, crap-” Eugene groans, licks his lower lip and swallows so thick she can hear it, “I don’t know what I thought.”

Same smiles, trying to put to memory how he looks right now - mused bangs obstructing his pinched browline, cute dumb lips parted and wet, expression a little hazy but filled with pleasure - because after this, things were changing, whether they were ready for it or not.

“I’m gonna make you cum, okay, Eugene? But I wanna make sure you don’t destroy the bat cave before we do anything super crazy.”

“... yes. That’s-that’s smart,” he sighs, curling his stomach in a way that forces his hips up - cock surging through her fist. She gives the meaty dick of Eugene Sims a rough stroke and watches the room fill with a topography of graphics to rival an acid trip.

“Jesus Christ…” he moans; trembling, “haaaa…”

Wouldn’t have pegged him for the religious type, she thinks with a wry smirk before releasing his cock to give her palm a soaked lick. 

Eugene watches her like he’s witnessing treasure chests spawning from thin air. 

A wink gets an airy chuckle out of him, but a moist grip around his dick silences him; crit attack on the freeze spell. Tonight is gonna be a test of sorts but she’s gonna enjoy this as much as him. 

Almost hesitantly, she leans in for a kiss. They are far past shy kisses already, but there’s something that makes her stop mid-way - some worry or awkwardness she can’t define. It ends up not mattering, because Eugene shoots forward, bumps his teeth against her with a wince, laughs and then…

… magic.

“Haa… haaa’my-fuck.”

Moans and half-choked words tingle her lips, making Sam sigh and smile into every uneven lip lock, growing deeper and wetter with each motion. If he wasn’t half-bad at the kissing thing before, he’s practically a master at it now, and despite getting slowly jerked off, somehow manages to make her moan with a nip to her lower lip.

“Fuck,” she mimics his own slurry sounds, “it’s so thick… and I barely fit my hand around you.”

In her fist, his cock pulses like a heartbeat. The veins winding around the left side of his dick bulge; channeling more blood through it until it’s so hard she almost asks if it hurts. Cause… surely something this stiff couldn't feel good?

“Mmmmn!”

Guess she’s wrong about that - that was a very, very happy sound. Eugene grunts and moans louder once his precum starts flowing, glistening each motion of her hand. He pecks her lips, grips the back of her neck to drag her in close and says something hazy and intimate while the basement flows with pixelated-dreams.

He pulls away to gasp for breath and groan her name. 

“Yeah??” Sam goads - just enough to be slightly annoying because she’s excellent at that, and not half bad at a hand job it seems, “That sweet, huh?” 

A firm rotation of her wrist and stroke of her fist brings forth a generous puddle of precum. One thumb stroke across the fat head makes his hips lift, freeze in suspension and drop. Another repeat motion, punctuated by an open-mouthed kiss, starts Eugene on a fucking mission - the mission of fucking her fist like he’s plundering something else. It makes her cheeks go hot, imagining him doing this between her legs… inside her...

He’s close, she knows it, so Sam pulls away from his damp lips and shoves him back over the shag carpet. His hips jerk, trying to keep up that sweet pace she’d had before.

Several of his fingers creep beneath his hood, threading through his bangs to latch on for dear life. 

“You know how many times I’ve thought about riding you… right here?” She asks as he arches against the floor, making a wheezing sound low in his throat

“Tell me,” he begs.

She hums in the back of her throat and throws a leg over to straddle his upper thighs. “Try everything I kick your ass in Heaven’s Hellfire… and everytime you kick mine.”

“I’m close.” Which isn’t rocket science because the room looks as close to video world without actually being video world right now. Nothing looks real, but in a realistic way that’s like a waking dream.

Eugene kicks a leg out and pushes his forehead into his palm; grimacing with bliss.

Sam gathers moisture behind her teeth and drops a line of spit to cover the tip of his cock, quickly working the moisture into his skin with corkscrew strokes.

“I also wanted to do it on your sofa, in your bed, bent over a chair… playing the game while trying not to moan on voice chat.”

“Don’t stop,” Eugene begs; glasses unseated and eyes squeezed shut so tight unshed tears start glistening at the edges.

“I won’t, Hero.” 

That nickname seems to be the word that turns the whole room into a blue waterfall of pixels. All around them, towers of glowing cubes rise and fall, rebuilding into forms of chaos that topple again just seconds later. She’s used to video world enough now that she doesn’t stop the steady, nearly furious rhythm of fist fucking. 

“Angel Warrior? Seattle Savior?” She asks with a slight gasp; knowing there won’t be an answer as his stomach starts to tighten beneath his rumpled shirt.

“Eugene…” Sam moans, bracing a palm over his pelvis to balance herself. She presses her fingers beneath the hem of his ‘HH’ shirt and marvels at how hot his skin is. Her gaze drops down to his red-flushed cock and the patch of bare stomach she’s exposed, feeling a little dazed herself as she starts to rock her body over his denim-covered sac.

Suddenly, the blue shades of video world shift to a blazing red.

“I’m cumming,” he hisses a literal second before the first squirt covers her hand in a hot puddle. The world around her goes supernova with static ripples of heat with no temperature. Behind her, the TV spider-cracks loudly. The walls race with Tetris-like colored blocks; snowing pixel powder like volcanic ash in a spectacle of otherworldly destruction. 

Despite the visual feast of Eugene’s orgasm, she can’t look away from him. 

He’s splayed out, arms raised and hands in his hair - glasses askew - as his stomach rolls and tenses. She jerks him off across his stomach, watching with teeth in her lower lip as strings of opaque white covers his lower belly; catching the crimson glow of conduit lights. 

A garbled mess of expletives and hitched moans of pleasure make his chest tense and expand. It’s… really hot… and beautiful and makes you wanna fuck him right now, somehow. 

“Yes…” he whimpers, “yes… ah’fuck’yessss…”

“Relax, Eugene,” she whispers gently, planting a hand beside his ribs to lean close and guide him through the high. She matches his sobbing pleasure with softer sounds, stroking him slower… and slower as he empties. How in the hell he masturbates without frying the bat cave, she’ll never know, but if he’s made it this far then perhaps they’ll survive whatever happens next.

One final leak of cum globs over her knuckles into the mess across his navel. As exhausted and spent as he probably is, she feels foggy-headed enough to bump her forehead over his own and closes her eyes. Eugene presses his nose to hers and gives her a weak eskimo kiss that makes her burst out in giggles with his dick still in her hand and his cum… everywhere. 

“Was it, okay?” Comes a husky voice warming against her face. It smells like apple jacks and her lip gloss, and it takes her way too long to realize this is what Eugene sounds like after he cums. 

“Heh, I should be the one asking you that, doofus. If anyone knew where you lived AND how hot you sound after busting a nut, there’d be groupies gathered in mass trying to jump your geeky bones.” She straightens her elbow out, hovering over him with a heavy gaze. Boring old reality is back. Gone is video world, but Eugene is still here - still beneath her with a tinge of pink in his cheeks and something like love in his eyes.

“I’m not a geek,” he puffs with a dizzy grin, blowing sweaty bangs out of his hair. The movement further exposes how askew his poor spectacles are, which is somehow goofy and sexy at once. 

“We’re both geeks,” Sam reassures with a kiss to his nose, “calm down… and just lay there. Close your eyes, and I’ll get a towel.”

”Okay, but I’m buying the pizza…” he mumbles. 

She rolls her eyes before leaving him there in front of the cracked TV. Unless she hurries, the cum on his stomach is gonna dry, and he’ll have ordered a mushroom pizza which is just… ew. Plus, selfishly, Sam doesn’t want to leave him alone for too long in case he passes out. The evening is still young and either they were gonna play more Heaven’s Hellfire like planned or… do other stuff. 

She swipes a towel off the rack in his bathroom and races into the living space where Eugene is sitting up on his elbows, surveying the damage; dick still hanging out his jeans like a savage. 

“Good thing I’ve got a spare under the bed,” he says to the busted screen. 

“Yeaaaah, it makes sense why you have those two unopened sets under the stairs,” she snickers and drops to her knees, “I don’t think I can live in a world with TV. The idea of having to make small talk for the rest of the night makes me wanna burn this place to the ground.”

When she begins cleaning his stomach off, Eugene’s dick does a sorta… twitch? It was soft, but-

“Yo. Are you getting hard again??”

A sheepish smile is all the answer she needs before they both erupt in a fit of semi-awkward laughter, and by the time they stop giggling like a couple of chuckle fucks, the cum is gone. Eugene's sporting a full-force semi and Sam is trying to figure out what gas station sells magnum condoms.

Still sounding like sex and nerd-candor, Eugene asks, “How about we order a Hawaiian pizza and-and… if you want, you can show me how to… uhh-“

“Set up a new TV?”

“Make you orgasm,” he offers with two wiggling fingers.

“I suppose that saves me from interacting with anyone else tonight,” she says, pretending to mull it over before giving him a happy side-eye, “Okay. Extra pineapple and you’re on.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading! I had a hard, yet fun time with this one. I hope it was enjoyable and if you have time, please let me know what you think. As is the case 99% of the time, all typos, mistakes and general what-the-fuckery is my own. <3
> 
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